Thankful.

I just have to stop and say out loud how thankful I am for the gifts that God has given Ellen and I. I am working through and edit for a couple shoot we did yesterday. The images are astonishing. But it's not Ellen and I in and of ourselves. God has gifted us. We cannot make ourselves "able" to do anything. God has not only given us great creativity, but also the means by which to purchase the best of equipment for us to showcase the talent He has given. Thanks you God. May we never forget: each memory captured is a gift by and for you. It's all your creation. I hope we alway capture it with your beauty.

Oh you don't know me? I'm the Kings Son.

Or: I am Jesus' brother. Either way think about that. On the way to work the other day I had this thought: I am the son of a King. That thought came out of the process of running through the business of my day. As the weight of tasks began to pile up I visualized myself in this sort of derailed character in the local paper comic strip. Obviously I stopped that train with the realization that I really have nothing to worry about: I am the son of the King--chosen in the salvation to be the heir to a throne. After the smile curled up on my lips from that thought and the anxiety dissipated, I thought about all of the students that I would encounter that day while subbing. And I ought about how many of them come from a world of chaos to start their morning. I was just overwhelmed by the projections of what my day might be...some of theses students woke up overwhelmed by what is.

I have friends who really and truly doesn't have a care in the world. They have a great family, are well of, are surrounded by true friends (not just scavenger acquaintances), and have parents that are fairly powerful (as in influential in the community, wealthy,etc...). Their days meet their own struggles, but they carry themselves always with a bit of "I am going to be fine." The reason is obviously because they have a firm hand in their situation to fall back on: metaphorically and literally. So they carry themselves with a sense of pride because of who they belong to.

And then there are those of us who belong tog God-the King. Think about it: they have an earthly father to give them comfort in any situation life throws at them. Those who belong to the resurrection have the Creator of the universe to fall back on...Easier said than done, but walk proudly NO MATTER WHAT confident as the son of a King.

Be Intoxicated Always in Her Love

Proverbs 5 holds a cool verse that I rolled over today: be intoxicated always in her love. I immediately think how great that would be as a song verse or chorus...and then pops into my head--"your love your love your love is my drug." Nice. I know. But there is something very cool to me visually about that verse. To me I do not jump into how to get sloppy drunk and compare that to being consumed by a girl. (In my case my wondeful wife.) There isn't anything about puking into a toilette that has been missed more so than hit, if you catch my drift, that can be put into comparison to my beautiful wife. I also don't think that being stoned out of my mind (I really don't even know that feeling, but I watch movies so...) to the point of forgetting my existence in a real world rather than one filled with colorful catepillars smoking purple haze out of the business end of a volkswagon that is giggling from the tickle fight with a bouncy ball can compare to my amazing wife.

It is fall and to me being intoxicated with her love is like stepping outside in the cool October air, breating in a fresh breath of pure air, letting the joy of that fill my lungs, and just getting lost in the breeze wrapping around me like a hug from God. Now, that is something I can be intoxicated by. There is a much better analogy of being intoxicated by the presence of God's creation: being lost in it: that applies to how I feel with my wife than there is in a disgusting binge on Old Pete's Moonshine.

Think about this: each one of you have a certain smell that can put you into a trance. For some of you its the smell of snow falling on a dirty mountain pathway, with cedar providing a dash of flavor. For some its the smell of sand, sea, and processed coconut oil scent from tanning oil. (In your mind you are right back there on the beach.) For some (and for some strange reason) it is the dusty smell of antique mahogony and dilapidated books. For some its the spring rain stopping with a foggy mist evaporating from the over heated earth. For some its the flavor of Pikes Place percolating and a worn out couch. You see, I could go on forever, and you would be lost in each moment that stikes your fancy. Each one of us have a moment that we can always go back to just from the tiniest of triggers--even just words can take us to a special place. You could see and smell the very things I was describing. So I end with this: be intoxicated by the wife of your youth--let her frangrance always be the thing you crave the most. Or as Ke$ha would say: let her love be your drug.